After It All
by TeeDee
Summary: The day is finally over and it's time for Matt to go home. Short aftermath to the episode 2x11, so there are spoilers.


Disclaimer: I in no way own Heroes. I just like to borrow the characters sometimes!

Summary: The day is finally over and it is time for Matt to go home. (Short aftermath to the episode 2x11, so there are spoilers.)

After It All 

The door was both locked and bolted, something that gave Matt a pause as he wearily strove to push it open by the key he had turned in the lock. With Mohinder being a man notorious for leaving the door unlocked while at home, this was a three-sixty that Matt was just too tired to consider. So he knocked.

Twin spikes of fear on the periphery of his mind pushed him from exhaustion to all-out concern. He pushed out his sense and felt Mohinder's mind coming his way before he could hear the footsteps on the other side of the door. "It's just me," he voiced across the wooden barrier, leaning forward as if that would help him cross the wall the geneticist had around his mind. He could knock the mental wall down with ease, forcing his way inside to learn what was wrong without the trappings of words, but no matter how hard his day had been this was something he would not resort to.

The jam screeched as it was forced and the door creaked with the strain of opening. Looking down at the drained face of his roommate, Matt felt any possible greeting dry in his throat. He stepped in and the bolt was thrown behind his back, the door locked in several places by the Indian's agile hands. There was blood on Matt's sleeve, dirt on his face, but the other man - usually so focused - just turned his back without noticing and all but stumbled into Molly's room.

_Molly-_

Matt rushed behind him. "Matthew is home," Mohinder was telling the small girl perched on the bed as he sat down beside her. Despite it being the middle of the night, both were fully dressed and the lights on. The covers were pushed back round them in a makeshift brace that they leaned against. There were no excited squeals of his name, nor sudden hugs of delight.

"You saw the news," Matt stated blankly, then wished that he hadn't. Raw fear burst upon his already aching mind from Mohinder, and from Molly there was confusion that swiftly turned to concern as she looked from one of them to the other.

Mohinder seemed to be gathering himself, sliding his slim legs off the side of the bed. "Molly," he sighed, "Matthew and I-"

"No!" She threw herself against the geneticist's side, clinging to his arm and feeling such a wave fo fear that Matt almost rocked on his heels. "Don't go! The boogieman might come back!"

The boogieman. Mohinder locking and bolting the door. Everything was starting to make a sick sort of sense in his jumbled thoughts. There had never been a body found, but he'd seen the man get stabbed. Several people had.

Mohinder was making shushing sounds against their daughter's hair, his feet on the floor but his torso twisted to cradle Molly against him. He was telling her that he was right there, that he wouldn't go anywhere. Matt, watching, wondered why there was such a feeling of deception in the man's mind. Then he realized that it was in his own, too. They kept promising this child that they would go nowhere, that everything would be fine, and yet every chance they got the both of them were running off to try and save what was left of the world. He was exhausted and his head ached, but this was more important.

Intruding on their moment, Matt sat himself next to the slender scientist and cupped the back of Molly's head. Her hair slipped through his fingers, greasy and in need of a wash. He made a mental note to ensure that she did that in the morning, then focused on the girl herself. Her face was turning from where it had been crushed into Mohinder's purple shirt, her eyes peeking up at him nervously. He tried to grin at her but his heart wasn't in it. Shifting, he moved closer to her. The bed gave a threatening creak but held.

"Was the boogieman here," he forced himself to ask. Mohinder was looking at him as well, those dark eyes too tired for once to offer reproach. Molly nodded against the geneticist's shirt, her beautiful eyes clouded in memory. The fear that she projected wasn't something he ever wanted to feel from her. His head gave a dull ache but he ignored it. "Did he hurt you?" He had to know.

Molly's little face was now turned completely his way, though her back was pressed against the scientist's side. "No," she whispered. "He hurt Maya, though."

Maya? Looking back up to Mohinder, Matt saw the slow shake of the man's head and the finger lightly tapping the man's temple. The wall was gone and the man's thoughts washed against him as he entered his mind. The image was there of a beautiful Mexican woman, her eyes completely overtaken by black. Then the eyes changed, became normal, and other thoughts came to him. She was there with Sylar, tricked by him into believing he was a saint that would bring her to meet him, Mohinder. She had held Molly as Mohinder had been kept from the child's side, and the woman had strove to comfort the child where she could. She had been shot in the neck, it seeemed, but was fine now.

"It's alright now," Matt managed, forcing himself to pull back from Mohinder's mind. Now that Mohinder's initial fear was calming, his own responding headache was dwindling to a mere ache. He could block the both of them now, and would have to if he intended to stay upright much longer. "I'm here," he continued, "and you're both fine."

The geneticist's lips pulled into a wry grin that Matt finally felt able to respond to with one of his own. Then the man asked the last question he wanted. "What was on the news, Matthew?"

Matt sighed and closed his eyes, remembering the shots fired and Nathan's body cradled in his brother's arms. "Nathan Patrelli was shot today at a press conference," he began, remembering now that Mohinder hadn't known he was with the man.

"My god!" Mohinder interrupted. "Is he alright?"

"No," Matt sighed. "No, he isn't. They don't expect him to make the night."

Molly's eyes were wide. Mohinder's own were shadowed and tried, but the spark that drove the man forward in all this hell and chaos was burning there. 'Do they know why?' Mohinder mouthed over their girl's head. Matt hesitated, then gave a slow nod, responding with "Later."

"Mohinder gave Sylar some blood," Molly suddenly spoke up. "Don't you have more? It could save him, couldn't it?" Her voice was full of youthful hope and expectance, and her eyes were intent on Mohinder's face.

Matt wished that he had kept his own mouth shut. Mohinder was looking away from them, swallowing. "I'm afraid that that was the last of it," he murmured at last. "There were only two vials. One saved Maya's life, and the other Za-Sylar took with him. I'm sorry but there is nothing I can do for him."

Powerless. Her eyes dimmed and she fell back against Mohinder's side. Matt let his hand fall from her hair, suddenly more tired than he had been all night. Dim light was coming through the cracks in the coloured glass of Molly's window. They should have been in bed ages ago. There would be no school that day, he knew. And, from the almost desperate glance Mohinder was shooting the colourful book-bag across the room from them, Matt had to wonder how long it would take him before their daughter was allowed outside of the door.

Sylar had been there, he reminded himself, and felt a sudden thrill of fear race back his spine. Somehow it didn't seem real, but he knew that he was still in shock from everything else that had happened that day - or the day before, as he should be calling it. Once they got Molly to sleep he could talk to Mohinder, get an understanding on what he had missed. He would doubtlessly be forced to hash up his own experiences of the day before. He was loathe to do it, but he would. They had to know what was going on, and sitting down to share things might be the first step in solving this.

"I'm going to turn off the light," Matt told the two of them.

Mohinder didn't respond, eyes still on the book-bag. Molly scowled at him but gave no argument, simply stating, "I'm not sleeping," in that tone of hers that would brook no arguments.

"Well, we should still turn it off," Matt muttered, and he stood to do so. The bed sprang up behind him in relief. "We're probably upsetting Mohinder's schedule." Molly's snickering and Mohinder's startled argument and its halting mid-start brought a smile to his lips. The lizard wasn't likely to be bothered, but it made a good excuse. Molly always enjoyed the play on the scientist's name. The man never failed to react before thinking.

With the light off, Matt returned again to their side and stretched out along the end of the bed. Molly scowled at him knowingly, her snickering stopped by the time he had her pink quilt thrown over his knees. Mohinder looked at him and then Molly, then pushed back to stretch himself out along her side. His bare feet ended up just above where Matt was cushioning his head on his arm. The bed made an angry creak, again protesting its abuse, but neither of them moved. In the end Molly hmphed and crossed her arms, that little nose of hers turning up.

'Close your eyes.' Matt started at the thought as it snaked its way past his barriers. Then he grinned, closing his eyes and letting out a sleepy sigh. Mohinder's own, he had noticed, were already tightly shut. Judging by the way the man's mind was running, Matt doubted that there would be any rest for the man in the next several hours. However, at least that meant one of them would be up. He had no doubt that he and Molly would soon be gone. With both members of his family this close, even in these circumstances he couldn't stop himself from slipping. And, with the day he had behind him, sleep was something he would have to have before sitting down for the talk that would have to come with Mohinder.

* * *

Light shone on Matt's face, bright and cheerful and impossible to escape. He rolled over and suffered a jolt of pain in his back. Blearily opening his eyes, it took him a moment to realize where he was - Molly's room. His feet were hanging from one side of her bed, and a purple pillow had been pushed under his head to match the pink quilt wrapped around his legs. Neither of the bed's previous occupants were still around. Memories of the day before assailed him, but those he had would look at later. For now he wanted to find out what his family was doing.

Climbing out of the tiny bed, Matt stretched the kinks out of his back. He could hear movement in the room outside his closed door, and opened it to find Molly sitting on the floor with Mohinder jr, both watching the larger Mohinder make a mess of the apartment. Both looked miserable. Matt stood there, flabbergasted. What was he-? Then he saw the boxes covering the table and it clicked.

"Mohinder?"

Mohinder didn't spare him a glance, just brushed past with an armload of shirts - Matt's shirts, actually. "There is some soup on the stove. Molly, could you get Matthew a - actually, never mind." The load of shirts was dropped into a box and the bowl of soup was being dished before Matt had even left the doorway. Mohinder was still wearing the purple shirt from the night before. In contrast, Molly's hair was damp and her clothes were the new ones Mohinder had brought back from his last trip.

"Well?" Mohinder finally looked his way as the bowl was left with a spoon in front of a chair covered with folded clothing. Matt, still feeling lost, moved the clothes onto the floor before he sat. Mohinder made a small noise of distaste and quickly put the pile into the same box as the shirts had ended up in.

"Eat swiftly," Mohinder continued, walking away at a brisk pace. "We have much packing to do if we are to be out of here by suppertime."

Matt stared down into the bowl of soup, unsure whether he was more disturbed by the fact that Mohinder was packing or that he was feeding him canned goods. Vegetable soup, at that. Salt in a can. He'd grabbed this himself during one of his first weeks in the apartment, and soon after had been regaled with horror stories over how much salt his body could and couldn't handle. The soup had never gotten eaten, needless to say. Until, apparently, now. And there was a dirty dish - a dirty dish - in the sink to show that he wasn't the only one being fed Mohinder's 'death in a can.'

"We can't just leave," Matt finally sighed, sloshing the table with orange liquid as he thrust the spoon into the bowl. He wasn't feeling very hungry at that moment. "I have a job here, _you_ have a job here, and Molly has school."

"That all is taking second place," Mohinder hissed lowly, passing by with Matt's socks and briefs, "to the fact that there is a sociopath out for blood._Special_ blood. And who knows where two _special people _are." Molly couldn't hear them from where she sat, but Matt cringed at the way her eyebrows were drawn together. She knew that something was up - besides the obvious, that is. That being that they were moving… His headache was returning full swing, and this time it had nothing to do with being 'special.'

"I called to resign for you," Mohinder went on when Matt didn't speak, and this time his voice carried, "but they would not accept it from me. You will have to call them. I have, however, resigned from my position with the company. They have sufficient vials of my blood and Clair's, along with the information I have left, to see about eradicating the last of the virus."

Mohinder kept talking, expanding on the plans of moving, erasing all traces of their presence in New York and restarting fresh in another area. Montana, he said, or some other place farther away. They cannot leave the country with Molly, but they can move to another state. Somewhere warm, maybe, like California. Matt tried to listen, he honestly did, but it was sounding more and more insane as the genius went on.

Yesterday he had been on a mission to find a woman that was going to be murdered. That had morphed became one to stop a virus from being released that would wipe out most of the world. Then, after a man had burnt all traces of said virus within his clasped hands, the job had shifted into an attempt to bring information on The Company - the one his roommate was being drug around by the nose by - global. Trying to make sense of it made his head hurt so he tried not to consider it, but even without the backtracking thoughts he couldn't forget Nathan's body stretched out in Peter's arms.

Standing, Matt cursed himself inside for not thinking and dialled the number for the hospital where Nathan Patrelli had been admitted. It would be an expensive call, but it seemed that that bill might just be being left behind anyway.

"Matt?" Mohinder had even stopped his steady packing to watch him, eyes wary. Matt would deal with that man later, after he insured that Nathan had survived the night.

"Hey," an exhausted voice answered. It was Peter, Matt noted.

Swallowing his nerves, Matt pushed himself to ask, "How is he?"

There was a silence on the other end followed by the sound of a sigh. "Not good. He's still here, though. They think he has a chance."

Matt felt his muscles relax with relief. "Good," he answered. Mohinder was still eyeing him, a reminder that he had his own issues to deal with. "Listen, I have to go but I want you to call the cell that I gave you if anything comes up. I have some things to take care of." He hesitated. "Take care of yourself."

Whatever the young man had been about to say in response, Matt didn't wait to find out. Settling the phone into its cradle, he met Mohinder's eyes straight on and frowned at him. "Nathan is still here," he started off. There was relief in the geneticist's eyes, but that wouldn't be there long. "Okay, Mohinder. You're starting to scare me here. What are you packing for?"

"Are you mad, Matthew? I told you already. Sylar has his powers back! With the two of you here, waiting, he has an opportunity to pick off two strong powers to add to his arsenal. We cannot remain here another day. If we do, he could regroup and return!"

Matt grabbed the geneticist as he turned to start packing again, forcing the man by brute force to face him. Mohinder was staring at him again, lips pulled into a frown that was wavering between annoyance and impatience. Matt shook him once for good measure, and that certainly got the man's attention.

"You healed him," Matt told the smaller man., "to save our little girl. He obviously left without doing her any harm, or you. Why would he come back?"

Mohinder was refusing to look at him. No matter how much he wanted to, Matt refused to read the man's mind. "He was chased away," Mohinder muttered at last. "I have no idea if he'll come but he knows this apartment well."

And then Matt saw it. He hadn't meant to pry, had specifically intended not to do so, but sometimes it was just too easy. Mohinder's mind was on the past, and the strength of those memories drew Matt's own mind towards them like a moth to flame. He felt the pressure pushing the smaller man against the ceiling, felt the blood dripping from a split lip and the cuts from many small wounds suffering the pull of gravity. It had been in this room, on that ceiling just above their heads, that Mohinder had first tasted Sylar's true brutality. This was what he was terrified that they, Matt and Molly, would end up experiencing.

Letting his hands slide down Mohinder's shoulders to rest on his arms, Matt pulled the man's tense body against his own and shook his head. "I can do more than you know, Doc," he muttered against the man's dark curls. Matt could entrap people in their wildest dreams or their worst nightmares. He could create illusions in their minds that would fool them into the belief that they were still awake, or that they were seeing things that had never bee there. Sylar might be back, but this time he knew that he could beat him. And he wouldn't be going anywhere, not now. "Just trust me," he finished. "And sleep. I'll do the unpacking."

This last he let slip into a mental order, and the annoyance on Mohinder's face fell away to reveal the exhaustion the man had been forcing himself past. Letting go, Matt pushed him towards the master bedroom and Mohinder went obediently. Matt knew that he should feel guilty, but, looking around at the shambles that the supposed genius had turned their apartment into, he was just glad to get him out of his way. That talk would have to wait a bit longer, he mused.

"Molly," Matt called, jerking his thumb to indicate she should join him, "come here a minute." She clambered to her feet and darted over, Mohinder's scaly body dangling from her hands. "I could use some help unpacking. Mind giving me a hand?"

The smile that lit up her face brought a responding one to his own lips. They would be fine. He would protect this new family of his. He now knew that he could, thanks to both Nathan and Peter. He just had to prove himself to his resident scientist.

At least Mohinder was finally out of that company.

-Fini-


End file.
